Much has been said about the Mahaprasad. The origin, the use of 'Óld World' ingredients, and age-old recipes, socio-cultural significance, and the spiritual journey. But hardly anyone talks about the 'cooking' itself. Ok, maybe an article or two mention something about the four kinds of ovens, the nine pots stacked one upon the other, or even the mystery of the ingredients in the topmost pot cooking faster than the ones below it.
But cooking itself is a deeply spiritual activity. And the food is a metaphor for energy. We draw our life energy from food. Hence it becomes important that this energy, which gets stamped all over our food, is at its purest. A fact reiterated by the way food is cooked at the temple kitchen. And more so at Jagannath Puri, the 'Dham' or 'Divine dwelling' where Lord Vishnu is believed to take his meals which are cooked by his wife, Goddess Lakshmi.
The rules are sacrosanct. The temple cooks or 'Suaras' have to take a bath and wear fresh clothes before venturing into the kitchen. In addition, they never enter the kitchen on an empty stomach. Quite a contrast when one superimposes this image with the that of sleepy folks stumbling into the kitchen in their nightclothes for cooking and packing a lunchbox. The difference in energies is striking.
In addition to following the rules of hygiene, the 'Suaras', who are not permitted to grow beards or mustaches, have cast aside their egos and act as mere apprentices to Maa Lakshmi as it is believed that the food is actually cooked by her. Their 'Aham' is not allowed to seep into the food and pollute it. The spiritual aspect of the Mahaprasad is further highlighted by the frequent usage of the term 'Upachara' along with 'Bhoga'. While the latter means enjoyment which food should ideally provide, the former refers to treatment or nourishment. And that is probably why foreign ingredients were not allowed in the kitchen. Probably, they hadn't been around for long enough for the local medicine men to study the long-term effects on the body.
The cooking of the Mahaprasad is structured to put one in a meditative state. The 'Suaras' are not permitted to indulge in banter when doing their job. Rather they are encouraged to chant the Lord's name. No ladles or spatulas are used, curbing unnecessary fiddling or poking into the contents of the pot.
While some would justify this practice as 'not meddling with Maa Lakshmi' as she carries out her job, most seasoned cooks would relate it to the heightened state of awareness experienced by them. The change in the sounds emanating from the pots and the smells easily betray the state of the contents. It is easier to experience when working in a quiet kitchen all by yourself, but to experience the same within the crowded confines of the 'Rosha-ghara' requires alertness and a certain sense of detachment from the surroundings. Isn't spiritualism all about getting in touch with that inner self!
Taking a collective view of the rules and procedures that are followed in cooking the Mahaprasad, I often marvel at the delegation of duties and the very 'process driven' approach followed to get a 'controlled outcome'. No wonder the Mahaprasad almost always tastes the same.
On a personal note, I sometimes marvel how the Mahaprasad with 'sauribidhi' at it's core become ensconced within these layers and layers of spiritual leanings and so-called modern methodologies.
For any Odia soul, the Mahaprasad is a symbolic representation of Jagannath himself. Eating Mahaprasad is held equivalent to having a glimpse of the Lord himself. Hence the gesture of picking up a few grains and touching them to our forehead before consuming the Mahaprasad. A sign of reverence for those tiny morsels which have the power to create. And they do create those hundreds and thousands of cells that build, repair, and sustain all life. Their 'life force' is the energy that merely gets transformed as mortals traverse through the cycle of life and death.
'Anna' is synonymous with rice in the Jagannath lexicon. The bounty of rice dishes on the menu respects and reiterates the role of this grain in sustaining life. Especially in Odisha, which happens to be a land of rice cultivators, rice is revered and a majority of our festivals follow the agricultural cycle.
While the Mahaprasad itself consists of a vast array of dishes, it can still be broken down to the lowest common denominator. 'Anna-Dali'/'bhata-dali'/'dal- chawal' is the basic meal for most of us and not surprisingly it finds a place in the Mahaprasad menu. A few years back a writer had described the Mahaprasad as 'simple', not realizing the intricacies that go beyond the obvious.
Our 'Jaga' is the people's God. He relishes 'Pakhala', falls sick, fights with his wife, and even renounces his body at regular intervals. 'Naba-Kalebara' is the ultimate reminder of the transient nature of things even as it hides a deeper layer of meaning which I have recently realized. Along with an understanding that 'Jagannath Mahima' will reveal itself only when one is spiritually prepared for it.
For today, I am sharing a divine recipe that is cooked as part of the 'Mahaprasad'. 'Mahura', a preparation that uses assorted vegetables, derives its name from 'Panamahuri' or fennel which is the dominant spice used in this recipe.
Mahura Recipe -
Ingredients -
- 3 cups cubed vegetables (pumpkin/ pointed gourd/ spine gourd/ yam/ taro/ plantain/ radish)
- 2/3 cup fresh coconut paste
- 1/4 cup desi chana/ brown chickpeas (half cooked)
- 3-4 tsp bata masala (fennel+cumin+blackpepper+coriander in ratio 3:1:1:1)
- 1/2 tsp turmeric
- 1 tsp salt (adjust a per taste)
- 1/4 cup Nadi badi
- 1 tbsp jaggery
- 1/4 tsp asafoetida (dissolved in water)
- 1/2 tsp cumin seeds
- 1/4 tsp mustard seeds
- 2 tbsp ghee
Preparation - Take an earthen pot. Add the vegetables, coconut paste, chickpeas, bata masala, turmeric, and salt to the pot. Mix everything by gently tossing them together. Sprinkle 1/4 cup water. Put the vessel on a low flame and cover it.
Open the lid after 15 mins and check if the veggies are cooked. When the veggies are about 80 percent done, add the jaggery and asafoetida dissolved in a little water.
Fry the Nadi badi in ghee and add to the pot. Add a little hot water if the contents are looking too dry.
Once the Mahura is ready and all the water is absorbed, sprinkle some cumin and mustard seeds on top. Pour the hot ghee over the contents, garnish with some freshly grated coconut and cover with a lid.
Let it stand for 5-10 minutes before serving.